


Maybe This Multiverse Theory Wasn't So Bad

by yastaghr



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Ecto-Vagina (Undertale), M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-10-30 19:26:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10883376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yastaghr/pseuds/yastaghr
Summary: Sans discovers his brother has four friends from 'out of town' he didn't know about. One of them takes a special interest in Sans.





	Maybe This Multiverse Theory Wasn't So Bad

Sans slumped against the door of his room. He slid to the floor, arms wrapping around his patella to cup his humeri. He tried to pretend he was only shaking because of the cold and not because of the five skeletons currently sitting in his living room. He wasn’t succeeding. 

 

He’d always liked thinking about multiverse theory. Sure, it seemed impractical at first glance, but any theory that gave him the glimpse of a universe where he wasn’t the screw up everyone knew and hated couldn’t be all bad, right? And talking about it had always cheered Gaster up, so what was there to lose?

 

His sanity, apparently. Not only were there five living, breathing,  annoying skeletons sitting down there having a grand old time, but apparently the lot of them had been hopping back and forth between dimensions for years. And his little brother was one of them. 

 

Papyrus had been extremely annoyed with him when he’d freaked out over what were  _ apparently  _ his oldest friends. Who knew? Sans didn’t. This was the first he’d seen them. 

 

To top off the shitfest this day had turned into, it was one of  _ Sans’ _ doppelgangers who’d gotten Pap to calm down. With a kiss. And tongue. 

 

It seemed his baby brother had better game than he did. All three of the other skeletons down there (and not the one currently having a heart attack on the floor in his bedroom) had barely reacted. Well, barely being one pun from an orange clad ‘Papyrus’, one punch to the shoulder of the punner by a sharp-toothed ‘Sans’ with a red sweater, and one look directed at him from the edgiest skeleton he’d ever seen. The look made him rattle with fear and...something.

 

That look had sent him here, shivering and shaking, till he finally found enough energy to pull himself away from the door and towards his bed. His legs wanted nothing to do with the effort. He ended up crumpled in a ball with his dirty socks.

 

HIs stomach felt queasy. He’d never really considered the idea of Papyrus and sex in the same sentence. He’d dreaded the day he’d be asked to explain, because in all honesty he had no idea how the hell it was supposed to work. Their parental figures had neglected to fill him in on that part of his basic education, and Gaster....well, he’d had better things to deal with. Or maybe it had just never occurred to him that Sans’ family had screwed up that badly.

 

The knowledge that Pap had figured it out on his own was disturbing. Sans was supposed to protect his little brother, right? And here was  _ bone- _ fide evidence he’d managed to screw that up, too. All that was left was for Gaster and his team to pop out of the void without his aid and the list of his utter uselessness would be complete.

 

He’d just reached the part in his thought process where he started seriously wondering about why Pap needed his sorry ass there in the first place when a gloved, clawed hand gripped his mandible and jerked his skull up to face the ceiling. Red eyelights stared down at him from a cracked skull. Silent judgement filled the gaze. Shame and self-loathing roiled in his SOUL, and the scowl deepened. 

 

“STOP THAT.”

 

It was a command, raspy and menacing. The words bypassed his guilt circuits and cut power to his current line of thought at the start of the tracks.

 

He blinked at the skeleton, wondering why it was here, why it was talking to him. He couldn’t call it Papyrus, right? And ‘it’ was just rude. Damn it, what was the monster’s name?

 

The sockets bored into him. He felt himself being appraised - not CHECKed, but damn near close enough to bother him. It wasn’t polite.

 

The dark sockets blinked at him, “YOU DIDN’T KNOW YOUR BROTHER AND BLUEBERRY WERE DATING.”

 

Sans felt his eye lights widen. What? His brother was dating? And hadn’t told him? Not just dating, but dating someone who looked eerily like him? Someone who, bar a few universal variations, would be him?

 

The not-Papyrus actually did CHECK him this time, but Sans was far too stupefied to care.

 

“YOU ARE EVEN WEAKER THAN MY BROTHER. WHY HAVE YOU NOT ACCEPTED A PROTECTOR YET?”

 

Sans’ eye lights narrowed, and his response was harsh, “ **a what?** ”

 

The skeleton growled, “A PROTECTOR, IDIOT. A MATE, A MASTER, A KEEPER, A-”

 

Sans growled back, “and why the hell would i need someone like that?”

 

Red eye lights rolled, “ONE: SAFETY. YOU’RE A WALKING TARGET TO ANYONE OR ANYTHING THAT WANTS TO PUT IN THE EFFORT. EVEN A PAPERCUT COULD DO YOU IN WITH THAT 1 HP.”

 

He flinched. That was just rubbing it in his face. Not like he didn’t beat himself up for it every single day.

 

“TWO: ATTENTION. YOUR SOUL IS CRYING OUT FOR A GOOD FUCK AND A GOOD FRIEND. EVEN THE WORST MATE WILL GIVE YOU ONE OUT OF TWO.”

 

That just confused him. How the heck would this stranger be able to tell that about him? He knew his flavor text, and it wasn’t anything to do with that.

 

“THREE: OWNERSHIP. RUS MIGHT BE TOO MUCH OF AN OPTIMIST TO BELIEVE IT, BUT I CAN SEE THAT YOU’RE DESPERATE FOR ANYTHING TO TAKE CONTROL AWAY FROM YOU, EVEN IF IT’S WITH A BLADE.’

 

Sans tried to pull away, but the other monster had his hoodie up and off him with ease. One leather-covered knuckle traced its way over every ridge of badly-healed bone along his arms.

 

A sneering grin raked him, “OH, MY MISTAKE. IT SEEMS YOU PREFER THEY GO FOR THE FULL BREAK.”

 

The stranger/not stranger threw him onto his mattress. He rolled over his bundle of sheets. Tears streamed down his maxilla as Gaster’s pets phased into being behind him. No magic yet, but they way they huddled over his hunched shoulders promised it was a definite possibility. They really didn’t like it when he was hurting.

 

The edgy Papyrus had his shirt halfway up his humeri and snagged under the bottom of his mandible. The slightly muffled words Sans could hear didn’t make this action any less confusing.

 

“MAYBE IF YOU’RE LUCKY I’LL ADD A NEW BREAK OF MY OWN.”

 

Shirt off, he laid the leather carefully over the arm of the treadmill.

 

“NOW, WHAT WOULD YOU-”

 

Red eye lights focused on the beastly skulls baring their teeth at the strange monster. His expression went almost soft upon seeing them.

 

“OH, SHOO, YOU IDIOT BLASTERS. I’M NOT GOING TO HURT HI-”

 

The focus of his gaze shifted down to meet Sans’. The taller skeleton’s voice rumbled into silence. Slowly, ever so slowly, he raised his hands and sank to his knees. His entire demeanor changed from predatory intent to soothing patience.

 

“I’M NOT GOING TO HURT YOU, SANS. I WON’T EVEN TOUCH YOU UNLESS YOU GIVE ME PERMISSION. CAN YOU HEAR ME, SANS? I’M GOING TO SIT RIGHT HERE UNTIL YOU TELL ME OTHERWISE.”

 

Behind Sans, one of the blasters whined. The other huffed. They conferred for a moment, huffs, whines, and clicks in two different voices. At the end of it, a white blur zoomed out of the open doorway. Confused shouts and laughter rose from up the stairway. Seconds later, the blaster returned with his brother’s arm cushioned firmly in its jaws. When it stopped, his brother smacked it with his free hand until it released him.

 

“STOP IT, YOU. THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS CERTAINLY CAPABLE OF ASCENDING A STAIRCASE IN HIS OWN HOME.”

 

He minced his way through the scattered piles of laundry, nodding at his kneeling doppleganger, “EDGE.”

 

“RUS,” The other skeleton nodded back, “YOUR BROTHER IS PANICKING.”

 

Papyrus spared Sans a glance, “YOU TOOK OFF HIS JACKET.”

 

The kneeling skeleton (Edge was it?) cocked a supraorbital ridge, “THAT IS USUALLY A PRECURSOR FOR FUCKING SOMEONE, YES.”

 

His brother sighed, “SANS DOES THAT EVERY TIME SOMEONE SEES HIM WITHOUT HIS HOODIE. JUST HOW BERRY IS ABOUT HIS SWEATPANTS, AND RED HIS SWEATER.”

 

Edge looked chagrined, “I SHOULD HAVE CONSIDERED THAT. HE’S A SANS, OF COURSE HE…”

 

Papyrus gave him one of his patented Disappointed Looks, “IN ANY CASE, I’M NOT ENTIRELY CERTAIN MY BROTHER KNOWS WHAT SEX IS. I CANNOT RECALL HIM EVER GOING INTO HEAT.”

 

Edge looked startled, then peeved, “OH. YOUR GASTER WAS MORE OF A FATHER FIGURE, WASN’T HE.”

 

Papyrus’ nod broke another little idealization Sans had been keeping. Hell, if Papyrus remembered Gaster, he knew how much of a mess Sans had made of that entire business. He’d been trying frantically for years to bring back his mentor and their team. All he’d managed to find was the Blasters, and even that had been more of an accident than on purpose.

 

Sans’ phalanges wrapped around the width of his ulna and started to pull. He deserved it, the pain was barely recompense for the harm he had done. The snap of bone caused the whole room to go still. Papyrus and Edge’s focus snapped to him. The sharp skeleton’s mouth moved, and his brother jumped towards him. Then the pain hit and his vision faded.

 

Red and black gloved hands shoved two identical cinnabunnies into his mouth. He sputtered and swallowed, letting the magic dissolve and make its way through his system. He blinked, and two almost identical faces swam into view. He pulled back. His mind and SOUL tripped into overdrive. What had he done? Papyrus had seen, he’d seen, he’d seen, he’d-

 

The rub of his jacket on his scapula brought him back down out of his panic. It was okay, he was safe. He was safe.

 

His brother’s voice drifted back to him as the familiar scarf and blue shorts strode out of the room.

 

“THAT SETTLES THAT THEN. TRY NOT TO SCARE HIM LIKE THAT AGAIN, EDGE. THERE WILL BE SPAGHETTI AND TACOS WAITING FOR YOU TWO WHEN YOU’RE DONE WITH...WHATEVER IT IS YOU END UP DOING.”

 

Sans’ eye lights drifted from the comforting blue blur of his hoodie’s sleeve to the skeleton across from him. Edge was crouched at his right, patellas tucked under his humeri. He still wasn’t wearing a shirt.

 

Sans tried to bridge the conversational gap caused by his... 

 

“uh, yeah...sorry about that.  _ patella _ the truth, i dunno why i get like that. whoops.”

 

He chuckled nervously under the intensity of that gaze. Sans breathed into speak, but a phalange to his mouth stopped his next bit of rambling in its tracks.

 

“LOATHE THOUGH I AM TO ADMIT IT, IT IS I WHO MUST APOLOGIZE TO YOU. I WAS OPERATING UNDER SEVERAL ASSUMPTIONS COMMON TO MY WORLD WHICH APPEAR TO BE IN ERROR HERE. THIS IS FAR FROM HOW I WANTED THIS CONVERSATION TO GO.”

 

Edge cleared his throat, “I WOULD VERY MUCH LIKE TO FUCK YOU, AND POSSIBLY MATE WITH YOU AT SOME FUTURE DATE. IS THIS SOMETHING TO WHICH YOU AGREE?”

 

The blush across his skull was bright, total, and instantaneous. He was...was that what...he…

 

“you really want to fuck me?”

 

The question came out as a squeak. Edge chuckled and stroked Sans’ chin.

 

“YES. YES I DO.”

 

Sans gulped, “but you insulted me.”

 

Edge looked puzzled. His eye lights wandered vaguely around the room. Then realization dawned.

 

“OH, THAT. THAT WAS...COMPLICATED FOREPLAY. PRIMARILY DESIGNED TO DETERMINE WHETHER OR NOT WHETHER YOU HAD A MATE AND WHAT KIND OF DOM YOU EXPECTED OUT OF ME.”

 

Sans was lost. Edge studied his face and sighed, “I WANTED TO KNOW IF I COULD FUCK YOU, AND, IF SO, WHAT KIND OF FUCK YOU NEEDED.”

 

Sans shrank, “there’s more than one?”

 

Edge chuckled, “INFINITELY. IF YOU DESIRE AFTER TONIGHT, I CAN SHARE...YOU DO WANT TO FUCK TONIGHT, CORRECT?”

 

Sans shifted from femur to femur. His pelvic bone and lower spine were prickling oddly. He opened his mouth to speak. Then he closed it.

 

Edge watched him. A translucent red tongue licked his teeth, “YOUR BODY SEEMS TO HAVE DECIDED YES. DO YOU WANT IT TO BE WITH ME, OR ARE YOU GOING TO SATISFY YOURSELF?”

 

Sans glared down at the glowing blue mound rubbing against his shorts and grumbled, “i don’t even know what this is.”

 

Black leather gloves settled on his scapulae, “DO YOU WANT ME TO TEACH YOU?”

 

Sans was entranced by those two red lights. His SOUL, beating faster every moment, bypassed his brain. Clearly it wasn’t getting anywhere if it let that organ do the talking.

 

“yes, please.”

 

Edge grinned. One hand scooped both of Sans’ wrists up into a single, solid grip. His arms were raised above his head and body slowly lowered onto the creaky mattress. The sockets above him burned with something Sans didn’t understand. Whatever it was went straight to that tingle in his pelvis and ramped it up to ten.

 

“GLADLY. AT ANY MOMENT YOU WISH ME TO STOP, SAY ‘BUTTERCUP’. CAN YOU REPEAT THAT?”

 

Buttercup, really? Sans mumbled the stupid word. Edge tsked.

 

“THAT WON’T DO. THE WORD IS INTENDED TO BE YOUR SAFEGUARD. SOMETHING TO SAY SO THAT I DON’T HURT YOU OR MAKE THIS UNPLEASANT.”

 

Sans was subjected to a long examination. He fidgeted in Edge’s grip. Being stared at felt...weird.

 

“YOU NEED AN EXAMPLE...SAY I WERE TO DO THIS.”

 

Edge’s claws wrapped around the bottom of Sans’ hoodie and pulled. He lifted it slowly towards Sans’ bound hands.

 

Sans yelped, “no, stop, no- buttercup, please!”

 

Edge’s grip on his jacket released the moment the word left his mouth, as did his hold on Sans’ arms. He raised his hands slowly up to be level with his smug grin. 

 

“SEE? JUST LIKE THAT...ARE YOU STILL WILLING TO CONTINUE?”

 

Sans let the trembling of his bones ease, he nodded. Edge’s glove once more encircled his wrists. The other caressed his face, lingering over his xiphoid process and eventually settling on his teeth. 

 

“FORM A TONGUE FOR ME, PLEASE.”

 

Sans went to drag up the spell from the depths of his mind but found it ready and eager at the front of his memory. When the tongue solidified, it felt weirdly thick and slimy in his mouth, like always.

 

Edge grinned, “OPEN.”

 

The second he did, two leather claws pressed into his mouth. They stroked his tongue, swirled with it, and pulled away with a dangling trail of blue.

 

“PERFECT,” Edge’s skull dipped down to meet his own, hovering just beyond his teeth as he whispered, “CAN I GIVE YOU A KISS?”

 

Sans was breathing hard. His pupils were blown wide open, trying to process the face in front of him. His bones were buzzing, and some kind of fluid was dripping down his femur. His tongue ached to be touched again, more vividly. He remembered his brother’s kiss with...what was it, Blueberry? He wanted to try that.

 

Sans lifted his skull. It knocked against Edge’s with a clack. It stung a bit, but the next time, when his teeth met Edge’s rather than his forehead, his skull exploded with that tingling feeling.

 

Edge smiled softly at him, “PERFECT.”

 

Foreign, spicy magic licked at his teeth. He opened and peppery warmth tangled with his own cold tongue. Edge’s tongue ran up the side of his as he pushed into the tip of a sharp tooth. Where the other’s tongue met the curve of his mouth Edge diverted and ran circles around Sans’ left cheek.

 

The skeleton’s eye lights were fading from harsh red to a pure white. The magic was draining down his spine. Sans could feel it pooling low in the body pinning him. Distracted by the moving magic, Sans missed the change in motion that led to Edge burrowing under his tongue and lifting it. He jerked into Edge, and the taller skeleton untangled from him with a hum.

 

“THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR LOSING FOCUS. STILL, THAT KISS WAS IMPRESSIVE FOR A BEGINNER. GOOD BOY.”

 

Sans felt the hand slick with saliva slide under the band of his shorts. The slick fabric leather rubbed against his magic flesh. The warm magic leaking from those joints met his body soothingly. Edge’s phalanges massaged their way down between his legs. Bits of the other’s emotion soaked into him - confidence, desire, and admiration.

 

The taller skeleton brought his head to lay against Sans’ right collarbone. His rasping voice whispered, “THANK YOU FOR BEING SO COOPERATIVE. YOU’RE DOING SO AMAZING. THE FLESH OF YOUR TORSO IS SO SMOOTH. THE CHILL IS PERFECT AGAINST MY HEAT. SOMETIME IN THE FUTURE I’D LIKE TO EXPLORE EVERY INCH OF IT.”

 

The fingers followed down the seam of his femur and ecto-skin from front to back. They circled around until Edge’s glove was cupping the entire mound. His thumb rubbed at the upper end. It felt around for a bit. Suddenly, it brushed against something that made Sans curl up into him. Edge grinned.

 

“THERE IT IS. I WAS BEGINNING TO WONDER IF YOU’D EVEN FORMED IT. THIS LITTLE NUB,” he started rubbing faint circles around it, “IS YOUR CLIT. IT GOES WITH THE VAGINA YOU’VE FORMED FOR ME. AS YOU CAN SEE, IT IS VERY SENSITIVE.”

 

The wet fingers split, pushing slightly into and then pulling open some very sensitive folds of skin.

 

“THE VAGINA. ALSO KNOWN AS THE CUNT OR PUSSY. IN A LOT OF MORE MEATY MONSTERS IT IS ASSOCIATED WITH THE ABILITY TO BEAR CHILDREN. SKELETONS, HOWEVER, CAN FORM ANYTHING WE CAN IMAGINE, AND REPRODUCE IN FAR MORE EFFICIENT WAYS.”

 

Edge rubbed those fingers up and down the sides of his...cunt? The thumb kept a light pressure on his clit. Waves of agitated magic rolled through him, but Sans could tell it wasn’t going anywhere until he got more of...something.

 

“YOU ARE SO WET FOR ME. SO EAGER TO HAVE ME. I DOUBT IT WILL TAKE MUCH BEFORE YOU CAN TAKE ME ALL IN.”

 

The rubbing stopped and both fingers slipped in. Sans gasped at the harsh stretch. It was burning and painful. His hearing devolved into endless ringing, his sockets went black, and his breathing turned into hard pants. Distorted mumblings pierced through the ringing, eventually resolving into praise and comforting.

 

“...EATHE THROUGH IT. THAT’S IT. GOOD BOY, SANS. RELAX INTO IT.”

 

“e-edge?” Sans whole body was shaking. The burning was receding, but pain like that was terrifying for someone who only had 1HP between them and dusting.

 

The other’s skull nuzzled against him. His arms were released, and Sans brought them down to cling to the other’s collarbones like a lifeline.

 

“I’M HERE SANS.”

 

Sans rubbed the bone beneath his fingers numbly, “that h-hurt, edge.”

 

“I KNOW. I WENT IN TOO FAST. YOU WERE TIGHTER THAN I ANTICIPATED FOR HOW SLICK YOU WERE. I APOLOGIZE.”

 

Sans was still shaking. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this.

 

“is it all going to hurt like that?”

 

Edge pulled his skull back to look at him. His eye lights, fully white now, help nothing but compassion and sympathy.

 

“NOT LIKE THAT. I NEED TO STRETCH YOU OUT A BIT, BUT I’LL DO IT SLOWER. IT SHOULDN’T HURT. SEX SHOULDN’T HURT IF YOU DON’T WANT IT TO. I DON’T WANT YOU TO HURT UNLESS YOU WANT IT.”

 

Sans looked at him wide eyed, “um…”

 

Edge’s solemness crinkled into a grin, “DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT. IT’S A KINK, BUT I DON’T THINK YOU HAVE IT. I’LL EXPLAIN IT LATER, IF MY BROTHER AND HIS BOYFRIEND DON’T REGALE YOU FIRST. RIGHT NOW ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS RELAX.”

 

Sans pulled in a slow, deep breath, pushing his skull up into Edge. The other breathed with him, and when he breathed out, so did Sans. They fell into sync, just breathing like that. Sans’ arms were wrapped around Edge, who still had two fingers buried deep inside him. The other hand was propped beneath them. The bottom of his ribs barely brushed Sans’ shirt, giving him the feeling of closeness without being crushed by Edge’s sturdier bones.

 

As Sans slowly relaxed in the comforting embrace, little sensensations made themselves known to him. One of Edge’s kneecaps was pressing into his feet. His skull was fitted perfectly into the underside of the taller skeleton’s clavicle. The other’s sacrum touched his own above the collar of his shirt. A leather phalange still circled his clit, and it was starting to build that buzzy feeling again. He was starting to want more again.

 

“edge…”

 

“FEELING GOOD AGAIN?”

 

Sans nodded, blushing. Why was this so embarrassing to him?

 

“EXCELLENT. I’M GOING TO START STRETCHING.”

 

The fingers hinged apart ever so slowly. The moment Sans’ breath hitched, they stopped moving. Then Edge brought them together again, pulling out just a bit, then pushing back in and spreading. Sans hiccuped.

 

Edge surfed his voice just over the sound of Sans’ breathing, “GOOD BOY. THAT’S IT. FEEL IT, FEEL HOW GOOD IT IS.”

 

Every pump opened him up a little bit wider. His cunt was feeling the stretch, but not burning like it had the first time. Those agitated waves were building up again, and before he knew it, two fingers had become three.

 

“YOU’RE BEING SO WONDERFULLY PATIENT, SANS. STAYING SO WET AND RELAXED. LISTEN TO YOURSELF.”

 

Wet squelches filled the air.

 

“sounds like woshua cleaning a bucket.”

 

The next thrust was a little harder. Sans gasped at the deep stretch.

 

“IF YOU CAN BE FLIPPANT, YOU CAN TAKE MORE.”

 

Another finger slipped in. Sans wondered if he could even go wider. There couldn’t be that much magic between those fingers and his pelvis. Anyway, what did Edge plan to do when he was done with all this stretching?

 

The next words came out as a raspy purr, “WE’RE ALMOST DONE TO THE POINT WHERE YOU CAN TAKE MY DICK.”

 

“your what now?”

 

Edge’s answer was to lift away, pushing Sans flat and himself into a kneeling position. Sans’ arms reached after him. Damn it, that warmth was just too nice against him. 

 

Edge chuckled at his reaction, “DON’T BE NEEDY, I’LL BE MUCH CLOSER IN A MINUTE.”

 

His support hand, now free to move, fiddled with the belt of his pants. The button popped open. He pulled down the jeans while his other fingers still stretched Sans, then kicked the pants away from the bed.

 

Sans stared at the glowing red stick bobbing in front of him. It had five ridges along its underside and curled slightly away from them. It looked to be about as long as Sans’ radius and twice as thick. A few drops of paler red dripped from the tip. 

 

“THIS IS MY DICK. ALSO CALLED A PENIS - AND QUITE A LOT OF OTHER THINGS.”

 

Sans gaped at it, “is it supposed to be that big?”

 

Edge coughed and broke into laughter. Sans felt stupid. What had he said?

 

“IF YOU WERE ANYONE ELSE I’D THINK YOU WERE TRYING TO SWEET TALK ME. BUT YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THAT MEANS, DO YOU?”

 

Edge leant over the top of Sans and caressed his zygomatic process.

 

“THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENT, AND YES, IT IS VERY BIG. MORE LONG THAN WIDE, BUT YOU WOULD HAVE TROUBLE IF IT WERE OTHERWISE. WANT TO FEEL IT?”

 

Sans reached out hesitatingly. Edge grinned encouragingly at him. He brushed his phalanges against the tip and it twitched. He jerked away.

 

“COME ON, SANS. YOU WON’T HURT IT.”

 

In retaliation for the eye roll that followed that, Sans wrapped his whole hand around the thing and squeezed. Edge choked. Inside his cunt, the leather covered phalanges curled up, sending a wave of pleasure through his magic. 

 

Edge growled at him, “KEEP THAT UP AND ALL THIS STRETCHING WILL BE WORTHLESS.”

 

Sans gulped and released the dick immediately. He hunched in on himself, sliding his eye lights to face the bundle of blankets. He’d screwed up again, and now Edge was going to be mad at him. A weary sigh puffed against his skull.

 

“NOT WHAT I MEANT. THAT FELT GOOD, IDIOT.”

 

Of course it did. Edge had been saying he’d been doing well, which of course meant it was inevitable that Sans would find a way to make a mess of it.

 

Leather slipped under his mandible and turned his head. Sans kept his eye lights averted, not wanting to see the look of disgust on that face.

 

“LOOK AT ME, SANS,” He reluctantly focused on Edge. The skeleton’s expression held only kindness, “I DID NOT MEAN IT. FROM WHAT YOUR BROTHER HAS TOLD ME YOU ARE A BRILLIANT MONSTER WHO DESERVES BETTER THAN WHAT YOUR UNIVERSE HAS THROWN YOUR WAY. BEING CLOSE TO YOU LIKE THIS HAS GOT ME RILED UP IN EVERY WAY. FEELING LIKE THAT MAKES ME GET A LITTLE SNIPPY. I DIDN’T WANT YOU TO SQUEEZE LIKE THAT BECAUSE I WANT TO FUCK YOU BEFORE I COME, AND YOU WERE ABOUT TO PUSH ME OVER THE EDGE.”

 

Despite the sincere look on the other’s face, Sans couldn’t help but laugh weakly at the pun. Edge scowled at him.

 

“gotta be a long fall off that cliff. you’re at least as tall as papyrus.”

 

The other looked at him funny. It morphed from confusion into annoyed chagrin.

 

“I SUPPOSE I DESERVED THAT, ALTHOUGH I THINK YOU’LL FIND IT LESS FUNNY ONCE YOU KNOW WHAT COMING MEANS.”

 

He pulled all four fingers out. Sans felt empty and whimpered despite the continued pressure on his clit.

 

Edge dropped to within a hair’s breadth of his skull, his free hand moving down to his own dick.

 

“READY FOR THE MAIN EVENT?”

 

Edge studied his face for several seconds. Sans felt worry and desire fight for control of him. Edge’s skull dipped down to clink with his, broadcasting reassurance.

 

“I WON’T HURT YOU, SANS. I PROMISE. CAN I BEGIN?”

 

The look in the other skeleton’s sockets, despite the lack of red, was smouldering. Sans felt his cold magic screaming to be filled with that heat, and he nodded.

 

“THANK YOU.”

 

The tip of warm magic pushed in. Despite all that effort to stretch him, there was still a big difference between how much he was expecting versus how much he was actually having to take. It felt very close to hurting him, and Sans whimpered, wishing it would stay this side of pain. His hands scrabbled on Edge’s ribcage, searching for a grip.

 

The monster above him halted, barely in. He moved his thumb to brush against Sans’ clit, rubbing into it.

 

“BREATHE WITH ME, SANS. YOU’RE DOING GREAT. SO GOOD, JUST RELAX. THAT’S IT. I WON’T MOVE UNTIL YOU TELL ME IT’S OKAY.”

 

Inch by inch Sans relaxed from his instinctive curl at the thought of pain into something more flat. He forced himself to breathe, following the rhythm Edge set for him. He could do this. The good feeling finally broke through everything, and he nodded.

 

“okay, go ahead.”

 

Edge pushed himself in, inch by inch. Every new ridge brought a pause and another hitch. They moved slowly, Sans concentrating on his breath. He took in Edge’s compliments and those loving, comforting emotions and tried to believe them. Finally, they passed the fifth ridge and Edge was completely filling him.

 

Edge growled deeply, “YOU FEEL PERFECT, SANS. SO COLD, SO TIGHT. I DON’T WANT TO MOVE. THIS IS SO AMAZING.”

 

Sans wanted to keen out his own feelings. His magic was telling him everything - every ridge, the pressure on his clit, the ribs beneath his phalanges, the adoration and affection radiating off Edge, everything. He didn’t want it to ever end. But there was still an itch for more, more feeling, more movement.

 

Sans half whimpered, half panted out his request, “edge, please, i need- i need something, please-”

 

“I UNDERSTAND.”

 

Edge started pulling out of him, and Sans panicked. What was he doing, he needed more, not less-

 

“hah, edge!”

 

The thrust rocked him, his mattress creaking in protest once. Twice. Three times. And again. He felt dazed under the onslaught of sensation. His magic was singing around the hard heat moving inside him. 

 

“THAT EXPRESSION YOU’RE WEARING...I THINK YOU LIKE THIS. YOU LOOK SO PERFECT UNDER ME, SO AMAZING. DID YOU KNOW YOUR SKULL COULD GO AS BLUE AS AN ECHO FLOWER? AND YOUR EYES ARE SUCH WIDE HEARTS, JUST FOR ME. YOU LOVE THIS, DON’T YOU?”

 

Sans voice broke around the thrusting, “yes, yes, hah, edge! hah, mmh.”

 

Edge’s tongue pried his mouth open and tangled with his, peppery, warm, and intoxicating. It sent sparks down into his ribcage. A knot of magic was building there, every thrust tightening it again and again. He moaned into the kiss, and Edge released his mouth with a smirk.

 

“SOMETHING NICE COILING IN YOUR RIBS?”

 

“yeah, hah, edge, p-please-”

 

The other’s skull pressed into his. His thrust became quicker and deeper, never leaving him.

 

“LET GO, SANS. COME WITH ME, PLEASE. I WANT TO FEEL YOU CLENCH AROUND ME.”

 

Despite his words, that tight feeling scared him. It felt like it would snap him in two; Sans didn’t want to give in. It would hurt, he knew it, he knew it…

 

Edge’s voice sounded almost as panicked as he felt, “SANS, SHH. STOP PANICKING, LET IT HAPPEN, I’VE GOT YOU, LET IT- HNRGH.”

 

The face above him morphed into effort so strong it felt like pain.

 

“PLEASE, SANS, COME WITH ME. I NEED YOU, I- SANS, SANS, SANS- YOU’RE SO TIGHT. SO GOOD, SANS, SAAANS!”

 

Edge thrust erratically a few times before staying in deep. Hot liquid gushed into him, stretching him, filling him. He moaned as Edge’s dick twitched inside him, every motion sending that coil just a little bit tighter. 

 

Edge’s sockets fluttered open. His eye lights came into focus, and instantly his face burst into a panic.

 

“NO, SANS, PLEASE, COME FOR ME! I CAN’T JUST- I- YOU’RE DOING SO GOOD, SO GOOD SANS. LET IT GO, IT WON’T HURT. IT FEELS GOOD, I PROMISE. PLEASE, PLEASE SANS, COME FOR ME.”

 

Edge’s glove reached down and rolled his clit between two fingers. Sans yelped as the coil condensed…

 

And exploded. White fireworks lit off inside him. His whole body was shaking, every inch alive and feeling so, so amazing. His grip on Edge tightened to the point where he was sure something should be cracking. He couldn’t hear anything over the roar of that feeling and the faint sounds of someone screaming.

 

The pleasure seeped in, slowly, dying down from a roar to a steady blaze. Edge’d dick inside him started feeling too much, too vivid. He squirmed, wanting it out of him. Finally, Edge’s voice returned to him.

 

“...AZING, SUCH A GOOD BOY. SO GOOD, SANS. YOU DID SO GOOD. THANK YOU. YOU WERE AMAZING, PERFECT, WONDERFUL-”

 

Sans croaked out a message, “edge, your dick-”

 

He started coughing. Edge looked startled, lifting him up and pulling out of him quickly. Sans came to rest in the other’s lap, his mound cushioned on a boney femur and his skull propped against a broad ribcage.

 

“SORRY. EASY, SANS. EASY. JUST BREATHE. DO YOU NEED SOME WATER? TEA?”

 

Edge began to slide him onto the mattress. Sans panicked. He was going to leave? No, Edge couldn’t leave! He pulled with all the might of an overcooked noodle on Edge’s ribcage and almost screamed.

 

The other skeleton looked worriedly at him, “WHAT IS-” He looked down, and both of them saw the cracked mess of a hand holding onto him, “OH, NO. SANS, DON’T WORRY. I WON’T LEAVE. I’M SITTING BACK DOWN RIGHT NOW. YOU CAN LOOSEN YOUR GRIP. YOU’RE ONLY GOING TO MAKE IT WORSE LIKE THIS.”

 

He carefully unwrapped Sans broken phalanges from around his rib. The intruding black edge of unconsciousness was chased away by a flash of green. Edge looked up at him, triumphant.

 

“YOUR LITTLE INJURY IS NOTHING IN THE FACE OF MY INCREDIBLE POWERS OF HEALING!”

 

He looked so proud, and sounded so happy, Sans couldn’t resist the urge to mess with him. He croaked out a pun, “didn’t even  _ break _ your stride.”

 

Instead of the groan he was expected, the other only breathed in and sighed, “SANS, YOU MAY BE ADORABLE, BUT THAT WILL CERTAINLY NOT SAVE YOU FROM GETTING POUNDED IF YOU KEEP THROWING SEXUAL PUNS AT ME.”

 

Sans shuddered. He had a feeling that meant he’d either be getting fucked or beaten to a pulp, and right now he just wanted some food and some sleep.

 

Edge once again eyed him thoughtfully. A flash of annoyance broke through the mist of happiness.

 

“what?”

 

The croaking was barely a whisper. Why was his throat so sore, anyway? Had he been screaming? Please no, his brother and those strangers were downstairs, that would be-

 

He squeaked and kicked his feet futily as Edge rose smoothly to a standing position, Sans draped over his arms like a carpet.

 

“hey, wait! what are you doing? edge, where are you taking me?”

 

The tall skeleton chuckled as he navigated himself and his burden around the trash tornado. Sans clung to his ribs in terror. He was so far off the ground, what if Edge dropped him?

 

“TO GET CLEAN. RUS WON’T LET US SIT AT THE TABLE WITHOUT BATHING.”

 

Sans realized what that meant at the same moment he realised both of their magic parts were still summoned.

 

“they’ll see!”

 

Edge shrugged of the pathetic squeak and reached for the door.

 

“IF THEY DIDN’T KNOW WHAT I WAS COMING UP HERE FOR AFTER RUS LEFT, THEY CERTAINLY FIGURED IT OUT WHEN YOU SCREAMED MY NAME. ANYWAY, IT’S NOTHING THEY HAVEN’T SEEN FROM MY BROTHER AND HIS BOYFRIEND. THOSE TWO HAVE NO SENSE OF MODESTY, AND I FOR ONE DON’T SEE THE POINT IN GETTING OUR CLOTHES DIRTY JUST TO WALK TO YOUR BATHROOM AND GET CLEAN.”

 

He wrapped his glove around the handle and started turning. Sans was in full blown panic mode now. The only thing running through his mind was a constant litany of ‘they’ll see they’ll see they’ll see they’ll see…” His mouth, without the input of his brain, decided to do something about it.

 

“buttercup!”

 

Edge froze. For the first time since standing he looked down at the skeleton in his arms. Tears were zigzagging down the trembling skull, and the mostly healed phalanges were in danger of cracking again. Sans couldn’t let his brother see him like this. He was already an utter screw up, but this...this was terrifying. Edge’s look of purpose softened.

 

“I SUPPOSE I SHOULD BE DOING A LOAD OF LAUNDRY ANYWAY, GIVEN THE STATE OF YOUR SHIRT, HOODIE, AND SHEETS.”

 

He carried Sans back over to the mattress. The shorter skeleton tried to get up and recover his pants, but collapsed before he could even make it to his feet. Edge snorted and covered his skull.

 

“what’s so funny?”

 

Sans scowl didn’t do anything to ease the laughing fit.

 

“YOUR LEGS CAN’T EVEN SUPPORT YOUR OWN WEIGHT. I DIDN’T REALISE HOW HARD I MADE YOU COME, SANS.”

 

Wait, what? His legs...was this permanent? Edge hadn’t said anything about this. What would he-

 

“DON’T WORRY. IT GOES AWAY WITH FOOD AND SLEEP. A HOT BATH WILL HELP STAVE OFF ANY ACHES.”

 

Edge knelt beside him, untangling the red and blue stained bedclothes and cocooning Sans in them. He left him there, wet patches of magical fluid pushing even Sans’ slob-ish nature to its limits. The other wandered around the room, pulling bits and pieces of Sans’ old clothing and throwing them onto his body. The end result was an outlandish and revealing outfit which left Edge’s magic spattered spine on display.

 

“UNTIL THEN, CONSIDER ME YOUR PERSONAL RIVERPERSON. OUR FIRST STOP SHALL BE THE BATHROOM, AND FROM THERE, THE KITCHEN AND FOOD AWAITS.”

 

As his bundled form was carried out of the doorway, it occurred to Sans that, for a skeleton he’d met this morning and been terrified of at first impression, Edge was turning out to be someone he wouldn’t mind seeing again. Maybe this multiverse theory wasn’t so bad.


End file.
